I Am Fine Here Without You
by EmptySequence
Summary: He doesn't love Amelia Abernathy. Because he is James Sirius Potter, and he just doesn't work that way. One-shot, James Potter II/OC


James Sirius Potter. A strong, wealthy male with women constantly draped on him, and a swarming gaggle of fans following him wherever he goes. _That's _James. Not the cute-girls-give-me-the-fuzzies James. That James does not subsist. Poof, bang, bam, gone. He snogs girls in vacant corridors, he tosses disgusting substances at first years, mouths off to teachers, _whatever_. But by no means, never ever, would _James Sirius Potter_, son of Harry Potter himself, _grandson _of the imposing James Potter, voted most striking male at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fall for _Amelia Grace Abernathy_.

* * *

><p>One chilly October dawn, James Potter sits on the icy stone steps leading to Hagrid's hut, watching little Amelia draw whatever those stupid doodles are in her leather-bound notebook. Chocolaty brown locks mussed and in that freckled face, tanned skin practically glowing in the rising sunlight, and that <em>body<em>. James shifts uncomfortably, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

_No_. Amelia Abernathy, by no means, is attractive. Not to James, not to anyone. Except possibly Bryce Fisse. This, by all means, isn't saying much of anything. Bryce, though, is currently trying to extract his rodent-like face from the rather creepy chicken mask James had "accidentally" wedged to his visage in earlier hours. Really, his hand slipped. Just a minor faux pas.

Brown eyes find the insufferable sixth-year know-it-all once more, admiring the agile movements of her hands across the paper before her, eyes deep in concentration and soft brows knit. James growls in frustration. It's just not _fair_. The world should be rid of females like Amelia. Too innocent, too _perfectly horrible _to be let loose.

Memories from years past arise, making him cringe. Remembering every foul word he'd ever said, every "accidental" trip in the corridors, and feeling every chance he ever could've had with her slip away. Not that it mattered. He has no feelings, none what-so-ever, for the girl.

Because he's James Sirius Potter. And he just doesn't work that way.

* * *

><p>The common room is like a death sentence. The brazen young female sits curled up with that slimy git Jess Taylor, snogging him into oblivion as they are unknowingly being examined by a seething James Potter.<p>

He isn't jealous. He really, truly and honestly…feels like wringing Jess Taylor's neck. Amelia Abernathy has too good a reputation for him to destroy and that's not fair. Yes, her reputation. That's all that concerns him. Of course.

Then why did the armrest just snap in half?

* * *

><p>Bathroom watching is his favorite pastime. The vent systems are always a perfect place to catch a glimpse of the female body, if timed right. Currently, James Potter is wedged in the vents, admiring the sleek figure of Irma Petty, adjusting his now obnoxiously tight trousers.<p>

A sharp intake of breath. _She _walks in. _No, no, no, no, no_. This _cannot _be happening. Two weeks had passed since he'd even glanced at her, and his feelings, he swore, were subsiding. Disappearing like he knew the inconsequential crush would.

Towels drops and James could swear he's in heaven, tossing any sane thought of disappeared feelings out the window. Just as he'd always imagined, Amelia Abernathy is nothing short of perfect. He's just unzipped his trousers when he hears a crack.

James Sirius Potter awaits hell as he lies in the pile of rubble that was once the ventilation system.

But honestly, he knows it was worth it.

* * *

><p>"Sod off, Potter." He ignores her comment, practically buzzing inside at the revelation that he was <em>talking <em>to her.

"You look pretty today, Amy," he says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Amelia lets out a sarcastic chuckle, shaking her head as she walks away, not sparing a glance back.

James Potter could cry with joy.

He _talked _to her.

And she didn't punch him.

_Accomplishment_.

* * *

><p>"James, please stop following me," she says, her voice annoyed. James glares.<p>

"I wasn't following _you _Abernathy. Merlin, who would want to follow _you_? Anyhow, you're looking quite nice today Irma," James winks, ignoring the wounded look on Amelia's face.

Finally, sense had been knocked into him.

No more chasing Abernathy.

That phase was officially over. Who could ever like a girl like her anyways? She wasn't anything special.

(_He really did try to believe that_)

"Thanks Jamsie, you look cute today too," Irma giggles, twirling her hair. James glances at Amelia, convincing himself that he's satisfied with her hurt expression as he invites Irma to The Three Broomsticks for butterbeers.

He ignores that familiar twinge in his chest.

He doesn't, never will he ever, like Amelia Abernathy.

Because he's _James Sirius Potter_. And really, he just doesn't, never has, worked that way.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

"No, you're not. Stop following me, Potter, and get a life."

* * *

><p>"Amelia-"<p>

"_James_, leave me _alone_."

"I…I can't."

* * *

><p>Eyes filled with tears, heart aching, James Sirius Potter is crying. Crying like a little baby, aching inside for the comfort of one negligible little girl, in a way he said he never would. Merlin, he'd never wanted anything so badly in his entire life.<p>

Snow falls in the late January month, the outside cold and empty, just like his insides. Every part of him throbs. Every part of him gives up.

He _hates _her.

But he can't bring himself to believe it.

Because he really, truly, and honestly, does not.

* * *

><p>"Would you just <em>listen <em>for once? Instead of telling me to sod off?" James recognizes the fact that he's shouting, that he had told himself he would be calm, but he pushes it away. He's done caring about that.

"You _never _listened to me, Potter! Never! Never once did you stop to listen to me begging you to stop _hurting _me, never did you stop to even look at how much you hurt me! And you want me to just sit down and listen to you try to lure me into your bed? Never, Potter, so _leave me be_."

James ignores the stunned expression on her face as he hurls the very old, very valuable Ancient Runes textbook at the wall, pulling at his hair in frustration.

"I fucking _love _you Amy! It's you, it's always been you. And I really suck for being such a pompous git and I would honestly do anything to go and change that, but I _can't_. I just need to try to fix what I can now. I _need_ you Amy, Merlin, I've never needed someone so much. I've never sat up and cried like a little bitch over someone. I never thought I would but here I am, blubbering like a little baby into my pillow over the girl I swore to myself that I would never stop hating. Hell, maybe I haven't, but I don't bloody care how much you annoy me, I don't even care about how much you want to kill me right now! I just _need you to know_. I just, I just…I just fucking need you to know how much I can't live without you," he finishes, voice breaking. He feels so vulnerable, like a whiny little prick, but he could care less.

"I can live with that, James. I can live with knowing that. But I can't live with being with someone who's done nothing but tear me down. Goodbye, James."

He literally clings to her robes, but in seconds she's gone.

And in a sense, so is he.

* * *

><p>Watching her get married, hearing about the bouncing baby girl, was hard. One of the hardest things he's ever had to hear. But it was a good thing.<p>

Seeing as they never would've worked like he wanted them to. Because he's James Sirius Potter, and he just doesn't work that way.

* * *

><p><strong>Meh, random one-shot. I like this one, though it's not my greatest. I think it's because it's my first non-happily-ever-after fic. So, please review and tell me what you thought!<strong>

**-Holly xx**


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